The Vampire Rufus Brown

"There aren't a lot of Vampires out there, simply because this world cannot support too many of us, it's a simple matter of, well, Vampire mathematics," Rufus Brown said to his friend, Karl O'Malley. Seated inside the Taco Zulu bar and grill in the City of Durban, South Africa, the two men bantered amid the clientele made up largely of hipsters, college students of all hues, and the wannabe cool types. Ignoring the noise, the two men focused on each other.

The two companions were as dissimilar as can be, indeed, they were about as similar as night and day. Rufus, the one who spoke was tall, dark-skinned, strongly built and well-dressed. The other, Karl O'Malley was short, about five-foot-eight, slender, pale-skinned and silver-haired, with frosty blue eyes hidden behind horn-rimmed glasses. The two had known each other for decades.

Rufus Brown is a Vampire, and Karl belongs to a secret organization known as the Crimson Order, formed many centuries ago and dedicated to fighting the supernatural. The Crimson Order has affiliates in America, England, South Africa, Italy, China, Japan, Germany, Nigeria, Cuba, Zimbabwe, Australia and more. Wherever the supernatural exist in large numbers, the Crimson Order sends men like Karl O'Malley to eradicate them. These two should have been mortal enemies, and initially, that's what they were.

Rufus and Karl hunted each other all over the Caribbean island of Cuba, once upon a time, and were forced to team up against a threat posed by an otherworldly entity. An ancient evil which roamed the world long before humans or Vampires existed. This experience forced Rufus Brown and Karl O'Malley to see each other in a whole new light. Since then, they've become allies of convenience.

"The average Vampire needs to drink six liters of human blood per week to function, that's one human slain every week, and fifty two dead people per year, if the Vampire in question is conscientious in his or her feeding habits," Karl O'Malley replied, his Belfast accent adding a pleasant lilt to his words, though his tone was harsh. The old man leaned back on his chair, and took a good look at his 'frenemy', the Vampire he'd been dealing with for more than three decades.

Rufus Brown looked pretty much the same way he had when Karl O'Malley met him on the streets of Havana, Cuba, in the summer of 1988. Six feet two inches tall, with mahogany-hued skin, and a smooth shaved head. Clad in a light gray business suit, blue silk shirt, black tie, and light gray silk dress pants, and those black Timberland boots he seemed addicted to, Rufus Brown cut quite an impressive figure. Dapper, smooth, and when the occasion called for it, very dangerous indeed.

"That's five hundred and twenty dead humans per year if there are ten Vampires in any one locale, and fifty two hundred dead humans if there are a hundred Vampires, now you understand why the Old Ones never allowed too many of our species to be made," Rufus said flatly, and Karl nodded and shrugged, biting his lip impatiently. Where in hell are you going with this? Karl wondered.

Ignoring Karl's gesture of annoyance mixed with impatience, Rufus took a sip of Blarney Red, nodded appreciatively and fixed his gaze on Karl. When the old man remained silent, the Vampire pursed his lips and tapped the bottle impatiently with his index finger. Irish wines are simply to die for, Rufus thought appreciatively as he gave the bottle a good shake before refilling his cup.

Rufus Brown had been fond of wines ever since he was mortal. He was born in Ohio, circa 1897, and had been everything from a farmhand to a day laborer along the railroad tracks and a hotel valet. One night, in the summer of 1929, he met a lovely woman named Hafiza Elmi, a newcomer to America by way of Somalia, in the Horn of Africa. It was an encounter Rufus would never forget, for Hafiza was the one who turned him into a Vampire.

"Alright, Rufus, why did you bring me here?" Karl asked impatiently, and the old man made a point of checking his watch. Rufus leaned back in his chair, stretched a bit, and grinned. When he did, he made a show of flashing his pearly white fangs, of which he had a mouthful of. In spite of himself, Karl shuddered, and Rufus laughed out loud like the bastard that he is.

"Well, I enjoy messing with you, cause it does bring the red to your aging cheeks, and oh yeah, that bitch Hafiza is in town and she's the one making all those new Vampires and I was hoping you could kill her so I don't have to," Rufus replied. With that, the Vampire whistled casually, smiling pleasantly at Karl as though the two of them were discussing sports or the weather.

"You son of a bitch, I am not going to do your dirty work," Karl O'Malley said angrily, and he slammed his fist on the table and rose to his feet. Rufus laughed, and then took a look around the bar, where several patrons gawked at their table, where Karl was causing a scene. A young Zulu guy, his Indian girlfriend and their Chinese buddy sat at a table just three meters away, and looked at Rufus with concern.

"Relax, folks, my friend is alright, he just had a bit too much to drink," Rufus said as he winked at the other patrons, and then gently laid his hand on Karl's arm. It seemed like a simple, even gentle gesture, yet with a Vampire's superhuman strength behind his touch, Rufus was dangerously close to shattering Karl O'Malley's aging bones to bits. The old man looked at the Vampire, scowled angrily, and then sat back down.

"If I'm not mistaken, Hafiza is your maker, which makes her your responsibility," Karl said, and Rufus frowned. He'd known Karl for ages, and they'd cooperated on many gigs, but the old man never ceased to be annoying. Rufus had grown to like Karl, even if the old guy couldn't always put aside his mortal feelings and see the big picture. You'd think being part of the Crimson Order would have given him a bigger perspective, Rufus thought, annoyed.

"Karl, I really thought you and your Crimson buddies could step in and clean the mess, but it looks like I'm going to have to do it myself," Rufus said, and the Vampire rose abruptly and then looked at the old man. Shaking his head, Rufus grabbed his black Fedora hat, which he'd been sporting for ages, and put it on before exiting the premises. He settled his bill, and Karl's, with the wait staff, and then ventured out into the South African night.

Rufus Brown sighed deeply as he walked through the streets of Durban. He'd been living in South Africa for almost three years now, and found it quite tranquil for the most part. Sure, the country was complex, with relationships between Blacks, Whites and other ethnic groups still a bit tense in spite of this being decades after Apartheid ended. Having lived through the desegregation era in the post-Civil Rights days in the United States, Rufus could relate to a lot of what he was seeing.

If only these were my only problems, Rufus privately lamented, as he strode through the Pavilion Shopping Center, one of Durban's best malls. The place was neat, even though it paled in comparison to Toronto's Eaton Center and Boston's very own Copley Mall. A lifetime spent roaming North America and the Caribbean left Rufus with many rich experiences, but Southern Africa was a new realm which he was just learning to explore and appreciate.

Standing on a balcony, looking at the mortals that scurried about their daily, or rather, nightly routine, Rufus thought of those halcyon days when he led a very different life. After Hafiza seduced Rufus and turned him into a Vampire, she didn't abandon him. Nope, the gorgeous African female Vampire had big plans for him, plans beyond him simply being her lover and companion.

"I saw something in you, Rufus, you can be one of the great ones," Hafiza said to him as they lay in bed together, in his one-bedroom apartment in Columbus, Ohio. The year was 1929, just months after Hafiza turned Rufus into a Vampire. The nascent Vampire looked at the Undead beauty that lay in his arms. Six feet tall, voluptuous and curvy, with light brown skin, and long, curly dark hair framing a slightly angular face, Hafiza was simply beautiful.

"I'm glad you chose me, my love," Rufus replied, and he meant every word. Hafiza looked at him and grinned, then kissed him. They resumed making love, and Hafiza showed Rufus, a renowned womanizer even back when he was a mere mortal, things which he'd never even imagined. Hafiza was quite simply insatiable and would not be denied. Even with his newfound superhuman endurance, Rufus could barely keep up with her...

"I knew I picked you for a reason," Hafiza chuckled softly, as she lay on the bed, sexy and comfortable, while being pleasured by a very determined Rufus. The brother had his handsome face planted firmly between her thick, sexy legs, and his tongue was buried in her pussy. Hafiza gently stroked the back of Rufus head, encouraging him as he worked his magic on her...

"Damn straight," Rufus paused to say, and he swiftly resumed eating Hafiza's pussy. The female Vampire looked at her lover and smiled, flashing sharp white fangs. After giving her sweet spot a tongue bath, Rufus began his approach into her. Hafiza reached for his member, which was long and thick. She noted that Rufus was uncircumcised, unlike most men in her homeland of Somalia. Hafiza did not mind at all and began stroking Rufus manhood, eager to feel him inside her.

"Show me what you can do," Hafiza hissed, and Rufus grinned, and kissed her passionately. Hafiza wrapped her sexy legs around Rufus waist as he thrust into her, and he bucked his hips, stabbing her cunt with his hard tool. Rufus felt Hafiza's claws dig into the flesh of his back, and winced as she sank her fangs into his neck, drawing blood. He felt the immortal life drain out of him, and fought against the lassitude which suddenly gripped him.

"You're quite a challenge," Rufus grimaced, and he kissed Hafiza, biting her lips and drawing blood. At the same time, he gripped her neck, hard enough to hurt even her. Hafiza looked at him, and saw a savage look on his darkly handsome face. Rufus began fucking Hafiza with deep, powerful strokes, ramming his hard dick into her pussy. He pounded away at her and didn't let up until she cried out his name and finally yielded to him while in the throes of a powerful orgasm...

"Hmm, finally, a man worth keeping," Hafiza purred with contentment, as she rested her lovely head against Rufus's chest. Rufus smiled, and Hafiza kissed his chest, listening to his heart and hearing nothing, for Vampire hearts do not beat, and Vampires do not breathe. Breathing and having a pulse were staples of mortality, and like Hafiza, Rufus was now Immortal. Rufus would live until the end of time, or until someone or something killed him. Such is existence for the Undead...

For Rufus and Hafiza, this was just the beginning. From 1929 until 1980, they roamed the world together. They wandered across America, and then explored the many islands of the Caribbean. The Republic of Haiti, Cuba, Saint Lucia, Trinidad, those were but a few of the places the two immortal lovers called home over the course of the decades. They liked being surrounded by people who looked like them, and enjoyed music, art, culture and diversity most of all.

"If there were a hundred thousand of our kind, instead of a few thousand scattered around the globe, we would rule the world and the humans would be our cattle," Hafiza told Rufus one night. They'd gone into a redneck bar in El Paso, Texas, and killed a few of the locals before feeding on their blood. Rufus was drinking the blood of a redneck named Bill O'Rourke, the proud grandson of Klansmen who once burned black churches, when Hafiza's words caught his attention.

"Honey, we can't take on the entire world, these days humans have guns, nuclear weapons, and more," Rufus reminded Hafiza, and when he saw the look of fury in her dark eyes, which suddenly turned bright red, he realized he'd made a mistake. I've just said the wrong thing, Rufus thought right before Hafiza grabbed him by the neck, lifting him into the air and causing him to drop his barely-dead victim.

"Don't tell me what's possible and what isn't, little man, I made you, and I've roamed this planet since 1245 A.D. so you can't tell me anything," Hafiza growled, and the look on her beautiful face was one of pure hatred mixed with madness. Rufus nodded, gasping even though he no longer breathed. Hafiza sighed, and nodded, then casually let him go. Rufus fell on his back, stunned.

"You're crazy," Rufus said, and with that, the young African American Vampire rose to his feet, and looked at Hafiza, his lover and maker all rolled into one. For ages they'd been roaming the world together, going anywhere they wanted, fighting their way through impossible situations. They'd been hunted, and turned the tables on their hunters, slaughtering their enemies and having fun while doing it. Yet in all this time, Rufus had never feared Hafiza, until now...

"I made you and if you won't obey me, I will unmake you," Hafiza said coldly, and that's when Rufus realized that his paramour was insane. Without another word, Rufus turned and ran like the Devil himself were after him. Hafiza laughed, taunting him and calling him a coward. Rufus ran and never looked back. This woman is insane and I cannot be with her anymore, he thought as he fled into the night. It was the summer of 1987.

The following year, Rufus Brown left America and moved to Havana, Cuba. He had fond memories of the place. He would stay there for some time, and eventually ran into a coven of witches known as Las Brujas Del Infierno, the Witches of Hell. These beautiful, magically gifted women were trying to resurrect the ancient demon Agares. According to Christian demonology, Agares was a powerful demon characterized as an old man riding a crocodile, with a hawk in his fist.

Rufus ran afoul of Las Brujas when slept with Joanna Pires, a young woman intended for their human sacrifice. They needed several such sacrifices to open the doorway separating the world of the demons from the mortal plane. The Vampire incurred the witches wrath because the lovely brown-skinned and raven-haired gal he seduced had been a virgin prior to meeting him.

Fleeing the witches, Rufus was confronted by Karl O'Malley, a red-haired, stalwart young Irishman with knowledge of the occult. O'Malley was sent to Havana, Cuba, by the Supreme Council of the Crimson Order to take out Rufus, and presumably his paramour Hafiza. Upon discovering Las Brujas and what they were up to, both men discovered that they had a whole new set of priorities...

"Hunter, hear me, you may hate us Vampires but demons are next-level bad news, if this Agares is summoned here by those witches, we're all toast," Rufus explained to O'Malley, who had him dead to rights, up against a wall with a silver blade ready to slay him. The Irish hunter hesitated, and that's all Rufus needed to disarm him, and gain the upper hand...

"Go ahead, kill me, you fiend, the Crimson Order will still destroy you," O'Malley said defiantly, watching as the tall, dark-skinned Vampire came closer, ready to slay him. Rufus Brown laughed, and instead of sinking his fangs into the hunter's neck, and drink his blood, the Vampire clapped him on the back as though they were old friends. This one is strange, O'Malley recalled thinking at the time.

"Hunter, know this, I only drink from the blood of evil men, and a greater evil would be killing you and allowing the witches to summon that demon, so I propose a truce," Rufus Brown said, extending his hand. After a brief hesitation, O'Malley shook Rufus hand. The hunter still did not trust the Vampire, and intended to slay him, but they agreed to work together to stop Las Brujas.

On that fateful night, the Vampire Rufus and his new ally, the Hunter known as Karl O'Malley went to the lair of Las Brujas and proceeded to kill the witches. They burned their unholy books, stopping the ritual that would have summoned the demon Agares out of the Underworld and into the world of man. It was the first time that a member of the Crimson Order had joined forces with the supernatural to save the day...

"We should be allies once more, Karl," Rufus thought, shaking his head as he ended this little trip down memory lane. The Vampire left the Pavilion Shopping Center, and roamed the nighttime streets. Near dawn, he finally headed to the villa where he stayed. When he arrived at his lair, he tensed. Having roamed the world for over a century, Rufus had well-honed survival instincts which warned him that his lair was compromised. He simply knew that he was not alone...

"Welcome home, lover, I brought you a gift," came a familiar feminine voice, causing Rufus to shiver. Hafiza Elmi stood there, looking glorious as ever. The tall, voluptuous African female Vampire looked terrific in a black T-shirt and blue jeans, with stylish black leather boots. Rufus held his breath though he no longer breathed, and pain struck his non-beating heart. For in her hand Hafiza held the severed head of Karl O'Malley, his only friend in all the world...

"You evil bitch, you shouldn't have come here, because you won't be going back," Rufus Brown screamed, even as he launched himself at Hafiza. The female Vampire laughed, and snapped her fingers. Seemingly materializing out of nowhere, several Vampires appeared. There were six of them, three males and three females. They were young, strong-looking and of various hues and races. African, South Asian, and Arab. Hafiza is still committed to diversifying the Vampire community, Rufus thought bitterly.

"Rufus, my old love, while you've been fleeing from me, I went and made myself new friends, and they're ready to be my soldiers and help me vanquish the humans," Hafiza said, and she nodded imperceptibly. Upon receiving that signal, the Vampires launched themselves at Rufus, who pulled a silver blade out of his vest pocket and defended himself.

"Come at me, newbies," Rufus shouted defiantly as he stabbed a tall, attractive Arab female Vampire in the chest and decapitated a burly, bearded Indian Vampire before the remaining Vampires swarmed and overwhelmed him. As the Vampires began pulling him apart, Rufus struggled, fighting with his last breath, even though he'd quit breathing almost a century ago.

"It's too bad you won't be joining us, Rufus, my Vampires are many, and our other nonhuman allies are swarming the offices of the Crimson Order, with their first line of defense gone, the humans will fall before us, we will turn half of them into Vampires and feed on the rest," Hafiza said, smiling. The Vampire queen watched as her Undead minions ripped her former lover Rufus Brown to shreds, and true to his indomitable nature, he kept on fighting.

"Oh, Hafiza, it is you who will join me," Rufus said, and he stood there, bloodied and wracked, reaching for a light switch with his barely functioning only remaining arm. The other, along with his left leg, had been ripped by the newbie Vampires, who proved surprisingly strong. Hafiza laughed as Rufus reached for the light, and that's when it happened.

"Rufus, what have you done?" Hafiza screamed, as ultraviolet light flooded the room, pouring in from every specially designed lightbulb in the house. The Vampire queen screamed, as did her minions as their flesh began to smoke and sizzle. Hafiza tried to flee, but Rufus Brown threw himself at her. With the last bit of strength that he had, the Vampire Rufus struggled against the Undead woman whom he once loved more than life itself.

"That's my insurance policy, Hafiza, if the Undead ever came for me, I made sure we'd all go to hell together," Rufus laughed, even as Hafiza raked him with her wicked claws. The Vampire queen and her former lover grappled, even as the ultraviolet light cooked their flesh, turning them to ashes. Within moments, every Vampire in the house was nothing but a pile of dust.